Runaway Ranger
by xXNeoXx
Summary: A ten year old girl leaves her home of Gallica and her abusive past behind to find a new life in Araluen. She developes her skills so that she can survive by stealing, but she attracts the attention of a certain Ranger Corps leader. . .
1. A Harsh Childhood

**'Ello 'ello, people of fanfiction. I'd like to give you a bit of information before you read my newest fancfic, _Runaway Ranger_. **

**First and foremost, this story begins after _Book Nine of the Ranger's Apprentice Series: Halt's Peril_. THERE WILL BE SPOILERS IF YOU HAVEN'T GOTTEN THAT FAR YET. **

**Second and not as foremost, the OC I've put into this story is from another of my fanfictions, but on another account that I lost the password to. I used to be Hannah The Awesome and the old fanfiction was called _Ranger In Training_. It may or may not still be on this site. Though, in this fanfic, we begin Rowan's story much earlier on in her life, making her really flesh out as a character. I like this one better than _Ranger In Training_ already.**

**Third and somewhat foremost, comes the DISCLAIMER: I do not own Ranger's Apprentice, but all OCs (Rowan, Aldwin, Garrin of the _Écumoire_, and any others) and the plot line belong to me. Thank you John Flanagan (I think that's how his name is spelled. . .) for making such amazing characters.**

**Happy reading!**

**~N~**

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**Chapter One **- _A Harsh Childhood_

Rowan Peris of the nation of Gallica, east of Araluen, had always had the heart of a wanderer, the eyes of a hawk, and the clever mind of a fox (and the smart mouth to match too, Crowley would say). Of course, when she was but a young girl of ten, these traits were hidden deep within her. She was known only as the fatherless daughter of Mary Peris, a serving maid to a local lord. Rowan's daily duties included washing the laundry, cleaning the floors, beating the drapery, and anything else her fellow serving maids told her to do.

Rowan had been born a bastard baby, her father having no more presence in her and her mother's life than they had wealth. Her mother wished she could have left her daughter on her own as well, and not a day went by that she didn't remind the girl. "You're worthless." Mary would say one day. "You're a waste of good air." Or "You mean less to me than the lord's hunting dogs' fleas."

As was to be expected, Rowan was hurt by her mother's harsh words, but, as she grew, the daily slanders rolled off like water off an otter's fur. She began to harbor more contempt for her mother than ever as the insults got worse. Rowan may have spilled a bucket of mop water and her mother would immediately turn to slap her across the face, screeching "You clumsy little bitch! How _dare_ you?" The girl would accept the punishment from her mother and seethe quietly about it. She developed several bruises from beatings Mary had given her, taking the laundry pole to her thighs or her back. Rowan learned to hate the woman fiercely.

It was the night of her tenth birthday, to be exact, when down came the final straw that broke the horse's back.

Rowan was scrubbing dishes, pots, and pans after the lord's supper that night, calmly watching the steam from the hot water rise in curling fingers past her face. She was lost in thought, thinking about how, one day, she would leave this place and never look back. She'd become a farmer. Or a horse saleswoman. Or anything better than what she was now, which was basically anything else.

It was while she was having these up lifting thoughts that her mother came up behind to so that she could find something to criticize her about. Rowan turned around with a large cooking pot, hot to the touch from the water, and ran into her mother. The woman yelped in surprise as the pot scalded her arm, instantly aiming a backhanded slap to Rowan's cheek. The girl fell backwards from the force of the blow, throwing the pot into the air. The cooking pot smashed right into the face of her mother, causing the woman to scream like a banshee. Mary aimed a booted kick at Rowan, hitting her in the ribs and causing the girl to cry out in pain.

Before her mother got in another hit, however, Rowan rolled to the side, got to her feet with impossible speed, and reached into the cook's knife drawer, drawing out the largest of the blades and pointing the tip at her mother.

The girl's voice was cold. "Take one more step near me, Mother," she threatened, waving the blade so that the bright metal reflected the light. "And I swear I will slit your throat."

"You wouldn't dare." her mother said, but she sounded as if she wasn't sure. "You don't have the guts to kill me, girl. I'm your _mother_."

Rowan's lower lip trembled, but the hand holding the knife was steady. "No, you're not." she said slowly, as if she were talking to someone of little intelligence. "You have _never_ been my mother. _I don't have a mother_."

Mary was silent then, shocked at the steely tone of her daughter's voice and the way she didn't held the knife calmly and familiarly. She had no idea that Rowan had practiced with a pair of stolen daggers from the lord's armory for over two years now, perfecting her skills with the weapons should need ever arise to use them. They were packed up in a rucksack hidden out in the woods behind the lord's estate, along with clothes, dried food, three canteens, a sleeping roll, and a small tent. Rowan had been waiting for this day to come, always prepared.

Now, the time for Rowan to leave had come.

The girl kept the knife aimed at her mother, slipping sideways toward the door that led out to the stable yard. "I'm leaving, _Mother_." she spit the word as if it were poison to her tongue. "You'll not have to see me ever again. I'm never returning to this wretched place, you hear? _Never_." Rowan placed her hand on the door knob. "I'm going to make something of myself." she said, before she threw the knife straight at her mother. Rowan knew the shot would miss, as she'd aimed a bit high, but the throw served its purpose as Mary ducked to the floor with a startled cry, leaving the girl the chance to sprint from the room and out into the dark.

That was the last time Mary ever saw her daughter.


	2. Beginning A New Life

**Chapter Two - **_Beginning A New Life_

Rowan wasted little time in getting away from the lord's estate where she suffered through her first decade of life. It didn't take her long to reach her destination of La Rivage, the hot spot for trade in the country. She was only in Gallica for two more months before she gained passage on a trading ship, the _Écumoire_, headed to the country of Araluen across the Narrow Sea. She paid what little money she had saved and squandered away over the years, offering her services to make up for the rest of the cost. The sailors didn't work her all that hard; they were actually very kind. The only service they required was cooking. Rowan made their meals morning, noon, and night, taking special care and doing her best to please her sailor friends. She told her story more than once to entertain them on the chilly nights at sea, so they knew what she'd been through. They respected her for it.

Had someone asked her whether or not she enjoyed those weeks at sea with the sailors of the _Écumoire_, Rowan would have answered with the words "I had freedom for the very first time in my life."

Unfortunately, her fun ended three weeks later, all too soon, as the crew readied the ship for their trip back to Gallica. Rowan was going to be on her own again, but, while onboard, the sailors had done her a great favor: they'd taught her all they could of the Araluen language. Garrin, the first mate and Rowan's favorite of all the sailors, had said "It's the least we could do, _mon ami_, considering how well your cooking was. _Vous allez nous manquer_." Then, with wishes of good luck, the sailors of the _Écumoire_ left Rowan in the port town of Reddle on the edges of Caraway Fief.

As she watched the ship sail over the horizon, Rowan whispered "I'm free. I may be alone, but at least I'm free." Then, with all the dignity that the ten year old girl had, she turned and walked calmly down the pier and into town, absorbing everything she could of her first hours in Araluen.

Reddle was a nice place, Rowan decided, and as good as any to practice her grip of the Araluen language. She'd pass men and women on the street and exchange a friendly greeting, or comment on the crisp sea air, or ask about this inn or that shop. All in all, she understood everything being said. Her confidence soared.

Of course, when faced with the option of trying to bum her way into an inn or someone's home versus sleeping out in the woods in her tent, she chose the latter option. There wasn't anyone Rowan knew here and she wasn't ready to trust anyone just yet. Thanks to her mother, she was sure she'd never be all that easy to get along with.

She vowed to change that. No way would she let her mother keep any sort of hold on her anymore.

With morning came a new sense of self power for Rowan, as she made her way through the port town in search of a job. Reddle was in no way large, more so busy. Ships came in to unload cargo, load new cargo, then go back to wherever it was they'd come from. Men and women alike roamed the docks as they worked, rushing between warehouses and ships through a sea of people. Children ran to and fro, calling out to one another as they were taught the way of the sea. It was a friendly town, where everyone seemed to know everyone else. That in mind, it would seem logical that Rowan stood out.

The girl listened to whispers and hushed exchanges as she walked by shops and taverns. "Who's this now?" one woman would say. "Has she ever been here?" a sailor whispered to a comrade. "Looks like we've new blood." a tavern keeper remarked to his wife.

Rowan took notice of it all, but she refused to acknowledge it, preferring to keep her head high and her eyes searching windows for any sign of a place she could find work. She was making her second round of a street when a woman's voice came from her left. "You lookin' for a job, missy?"

Rowan turned immediately to be faced with an older woman poking her head out of an inn's stable yard. "That I am, _madame_. Might you be offering?" The girl answered, trying to be as polite as she could.

The woman's face showed her surprise at the title "_madame_". "Gallican, eh?" she asked, not waiting for an answer. "You're a good ways from home then. Where's your mamma?"

Rowan's fists closed. "I have no mother." she said through clenched teeth. "I'm here on my own."

The woman nodded. "I see. So you ran away from her, eh child? I take it she wasn't the nicest person."

"No." Rowan sighed. "She wasn't. That's why I left." The girl closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "You mentioned a job?"

The woman smiled. "Aye, I did." She came around to the gate of the stable yard. "We're short one stable hand to manage horses for the masters whilst they're away. Think you could handle that, missy?"

Rowan couldn't believe her luck. She'd taken care of the horses back on the estate she'd grown up on plenty of times; she knew what to do. She nodded enthusiastically. "_Oui_, _madame_, I can. I've experience with horses." she told her. "My name's Rowan. Rowan Peris." she added.

"A fine name, dear." The woman said. "I'm called Della Monroe. My husband owns this inn here." she paused, giving Rowan a quick up-and-down look. "I think you and I will get along just fine. You've got the job."

Rowan gave a squeal of happiness, then quickly covered her mouth, embarrassed. Della just smiled at her. "When do you want me to start?" the girl asked.

"Now would be wonderful." Della said, putting her hands on her back and giving a long stretch to work out the kinks. "I'm in need of a rest. D'you think you can handle yourself for an hour or so?"

Rowan nodded quickly as the woman ushered her into the stable yard. "I'll be fine, _madame_." She said politely.

"Holler if you find yourself in any trouble, dear." Della called as she walked through the inn's side door. Rowan called back that she would as the door shut.

So the girl had a job and a person she could trust. Rowan's new life in Araluen had begun.

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**And that's chapter two of this R.A. fanfic. Tell me whatcha think, be it good or bad. I love feedback, people! It's my drug. But you can't smoke it. I've tried.**

**Also, to answer a review from chapter one: No, this is not a romance with Crowley, though he is to be a very important character later. **

**And, this is not yet in perfect allignment to the end of _Halt's Peril_, but we're getting there. I'll tell you when.**

**Neo out. PEACE.**

**~N~**


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